


Fear

by elzbellz



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bellamy needs a hug, Octavia's dad mentioned, implied rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 11:11:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6801340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elzbellz/pseuds/elzbellz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellamy thinks about Octavia's father</p><p>"He wondered whether beating him up made her feel better like he thought it did. Bellamy never hated someone as much as he hated him. He hurt mom and he hurt him and he left Octavia."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fear

**Author's Note:**

> During Episodes 3x10 and 3x12

_“No! Please don’t touch my boy” Please!” a voice screamed over and over as a meaty fist connected with Bellamy’s face._

_The small six-year-old slumped to the floor whimpering, curling himself tightly into a ball as Aurora begged the man to leave him alone._

_“SHUT UP YOU BITCH!” A voice yelled back as a kick connected strongly to Bellamy’s side and he was sent flailing again. Before the small boy could get his bearings he was picked up by the scruff of him neck._

_He kicked and punch to no avail and soon he found himself being stuffed into the chest the Blake’s’ kept at the end of the bunks. The lid slammed shut and Bellamy was surrounded by darkness._

_He scratched the trunk lid and kicked at the too small interior but the only response he got was “SHUT UP YOU LITTLE BASTARD!”_

_He could hear his mom sobbing and begging, so he continued to kick until he tired out. He took a deep breath and covered his ears. His breathing_ was _picking up and he began to cry, it was so cramped._

_It hurt._

_He soon heard the door slam shut and he blinked as artificial light assaulted him. His mother peered down and picked him up even though he was getting to big for her to carry him. He buried his face into his shoulder and sobbed._

_Bellamy soon heard the sink running and his mother very gently washed the bruise on his cheek and his raw fingernails._

_“My brave boy, he won’t hurt you again” she whispered soothingly into his messy hair. Bellamy nodded but he knew it was a lie but it made him feel better all the same._

_“Sleep now” she said tucking him into bed and kissing him._

_Bellamy nodded tiredly before closing his eyes letting sleep take him._

_\--_

Bellamy’s eyes snapped open and he took in deep gasping breath, that dream again. It was becoming more regular. Especially now he was chained to a cave wall covered in cuts and bruises. He calmed his breathing down to look at Octavia who was curled tightly around Lincolns journal.

Bellamy’s heart clenched at the thought of Lincoln. It was his fault. Why was it always his fault?

He let out a shaky breath and peered out the cave entrance it was dawn, the rest would be getting up soon. He needed to look strong but he doubted anyone would care. Everyone hated him…even his sister.

He wondered whether beating him up made her feel better like _he_ thought it did. Bellamy never hated someone as much as he hated _him._ He hurt mom and he hurt him and he left Octavia.

Bellamy was glad he abandoned his daughter, so he and mom could raise her to be better and never hurt people like her father did to them. All his life Bellamy had made sure Octavia never witnessed violence. He always made sure she was safe and warm and never felt scared like he did.

The trunk remained in their room but him and Aurora never looked at it or even spoke of but the fear of it lasted. Every time Bellamy in enclosed in a small space he starts to panic. Like right now when he was chained to a wall when O beat him up.

He felt like he was six again and the monster was hurting him. But it wasn’t a monster it was his sister. He tried to remember that and just sat there and took it trying to repress the memories. It didn’t work and now that monster messed up his future as well as his past.

All his life he feared O would be like him, violent and impulsive. But when they grew up he never saw a sign of it just a happy little girl. Until they got to the ground, then everything changed.

She learnt the Grounder lifestyle where violence was acceptable and Bellamy hated it he wanted to yank her away kicking and screaming back to safety and shut her little Grounder ideals down.

Bellamy was grateful as Octavia became stronger but as it went on he saw changes he didn’t like. He tried to ignore them but when she beat him up. He was frightened both for her and of her.

Every time she came near him after he flinched and stared at the floor like he did when her dad decided to pick on him instead of mom.

He stared at her quietly, she looked so much like mom it hurt sometimes but the one thing that wasn’t his moms were her eyes. Clear blue that darkened to black every time she got angry. She had _his_ eyes. But hers were usually filled with love and compassion but know they were filled with hate and grief like _his_ once were.

Bellamy still loved his sister and he would still die for her but sometimes he saw that monster in her and that scared him.

\--

Emerson was gloating at Clarke as he slowly sucked the oxygen out the room. Bellamy’s chest was beating strongly. He was scared he never was as scared as he had been before in his entire life.

But he looked at Octavia and saw the girl he loved, his baby sister one last time before what he thought was going to be the last time but once again the Princess saved the day.

Now Bellamy was wandering down a plain corridor all of them looked the same to him wondering what to do with himself until he came upon a door. It was their family home.

Him, O and Mom he took a deep breath before opening the door. Another family lived in it now as toys and clothes were scattered around but one thing stuck out.

The big brown chest at the end of the bunk sat there mocking him about the traumas of the last few days. He steadily stepped forward and gently brushed his hand across it.

Taking a deep breath, he opened it and looked inside it has a few toys but nothing much. He looked at the lid and the multiple scratch marks feeling his chest tighten at them.

He gently removed the toys and climbed in tucking his long limbs to his chest. He couldn’t fit anymore but he still felt frightened even with the lid up. He looked at the lid again before running his nails along the path his six-year-old nails had made feeling tears trickle down his face wishing.

Wishing things could be different.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Read and Review!


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